Tag Archives: Bobby

Gruff




Written as a sort-of request from Daughter of a Witch (SPN Amino app)

Written: 19.02.21

Words: 398

Crobby (My first!)


“Balls!” Bobby took his hat off his head, wiping back his sweaty hair before replacing it, reaching for his gun as he heard a crash from downstairs.

He crept down the steps slowly, running through his last salt-line check. He didn’t think he had missed any, but then again, last he remembered he was also in the living room.

He stepped as quietly as he could across his floor, praying his aging house didn’t give away his location.

Just as he was nearing the kitchen, the doors swung open, startling him.

The sound of the gun going off momentarily stunned him before his eyes were met with black, fuck.

“Well hello to you too, Darling.” Crowley placed the whiskey glass down before raising an eyebrow as he saw the bullet hole in his chest, “This is Italian!” He huffed once before digging his hand into the wound, “Y’know, if you had used the Colt,” he grit his teeth before yanking his hand out of the wound, emerging with the bullet between his fingers, “I’d be dead.”

“What’re you doing here?” Bobby clicked the safety on before putting the gun down, walking over to steal the mans’ drink, “Besides drinking my whiskey?”

The demon smiled, “Not one for small talk, are you?”

The hunter narrowed his eyes as he took a swig from the glass, taking a few steps back.

Crowley caught his wrist, smile widening, “I was hoping to make this a…” he brought his lips close to his ear, “personal visit.”

“I take it you know the boys’ ain’t here?”

“One of the perks of being me.”

The brunette eyed him for a moment before wrenching his wrist out of the demons’ grasp, crossing the room to his desk, “What makes you think I got time for that?”

“Bobby,” Crowley followed him, jumping up to sit on his desk, “You know what they say about all work and no play.”

The hunter eyed the demon for a moment before sighing, “Fine.” He flipped the giant book closed in a puff of dust, “But make it quick. The boys’ll be back any minute.”

Crowley smirked, “I could always send them a little…” he crept closer, sitting in the hunters’ lap, “distraction.”

“You do,” Bobbys’ breath caught in his throat as the demon went to work on his neck, “and next time I’ll make sure I use the Colt.”


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Hunter Helper




Request from CarmillaPoisonberry (DA), who asked for: got another sick!fic in mind. Sick!Dean and Caring!Sam in the middle of a hunt. Taking place anytime after Season 6. (14.07.14)

I’m sorry this is so late! Please don’t hate me! Also, I’m sorry it went off the rails from the prompt in the middle, but I’m hoping you still like it anyway.

Words: 5,601

Hallucifer, Coda to S7 (Some spoilers)


“Damn it,” Dean glared down at his cast and dropped his hand back to his lap, uselessly.

The damn thing made it impossible for him to scratch at his leg, making him go just the tad bit crazy. He knew he wasn’t supposed to scratch at it, the doctors told him that meant it was healing, but damn if he didn’t try. How is anyone supposed to ignore this itching for two weeks anyway? He’d got so desperate a few days ago that he tried to get a stick in there but it ended up snapping in half, so now not only did he have an unreachable itch, he also had half a stick sticking out from his leg.

I really didn’t think that through, the blonde tugged uselessly at the end of the stick, only ending up pushing it further into his cast. The bark added to the itching. Every time he shifted his leg, the stick would move ever so slightly and tease him by scrapping against his leg – too slowly to bring any relief. Great. He let out a sigh and flopped his head back against the couch.

He knew that he shouldn’t be complaining about his leg, considering Sam had the devil riding shotgun, and the world was ending…again.

When did his life go so downhill?

Speaking of the devil…

Dean craned his neck against the back of the couch, trying to see into the back hall of the cabin, “Sam?”

All that met him was silence, which instantly spiked his worry meter. If Sam decided to fly the cuckoo’s nest, he wouldn’t even be able to go after him, unless he decided to cut his cast off. Which was a serious option if Sam did leave; there was no way he was going to just sit around if his brother was out walking around by himself.

“Sam?”

Still nothing. Damn it, he began struggling to get himself up off the couch, I swear to God, Sammy, if you left this cabin-

“Yeah, yeah, I’m right here,” The giant walked into the room, seeming shaken up about something, wringing his hands.

The blonde narrowed his eyes at his brother as he eased himself back down onto the couch, “Why didn’t you answer?”

“What do you mean?” Sam moved to help guide him back down, before sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

“I had to call you more than once.”

“So?”

So, I can’t just spring up and go after you if you don’t answer. I need to know you’re safe.”

“Okay, jeez I didn’t realize you being injured meant I had to stay confined,” His eyes began wandering off to the right, in the direction of the kitchen, behind my head.

“Damn it, Sam,” he punched the cushion beside him, making the youngest jump, “You have the devil making you see who knows what, and I’m down a leg, this is serious.”

“Okay, sorry, I was…,” Dean didn’t miss the way his eyes focused on something behind his head again, “distracted.”

“What were you doing?”

“Nothing.”

That came out a little faster than necessary, “You wanna try that again?”

He finally turned his gaze back to his brother, “I wasn’t doing anything.”

“Sam.”

“Dean.”

The brother’s stared at each other for a few minutes, before Dean sighed and Sam got up from the table, making his way into the kitchen.

Oh, that’s great, now he’s playing cops and robbers, the blonde leaned his head against the back of the couch again, doing his best to keep his eyes on him. If you’re seeing him now, there’s no way I’m leaving you alone, “What’re you doing?”

“Having sex.”

“Aw, dude, not on the table! And keep your special sauce away from the milk! I do not need that in my cereal.”

“Ugh, Dean,” Bitch Face Number Seven, looks pretty funny upside down, actually, “that’s disgusting!”

“Hey, you’re the one who’s having sex in the kitchen; I’m just giving you some parameters.”

He heard him let out a frustrated groan before padding toward one of the back rooms, that I can’t get to. Dean internally swore his brother for doing that – he knew he did it on purpose, wanting some alone time. But his alone time wasn’t just him, which was what Dean didn’t trust. He knew he was being a pain in the ass, but it’s not like he didn’t have a reason, and with his bum leg, he didn’t exactly have much else to do either.

He punched one of the cushions next to him again, “Shit!”

The blonde heard the creak of a door closing, and then… nothing. Not good.

“Sam?”

He ran a hand through his hair and grit his teeth, doing his best not to explode, why are you being such an ass about this? “Sam!”

“What the fuck do you want?”

Whoa, attitude much? “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Going to the bathroom! Is that okay with you Dad?”

Aaaand now you’re pissed. Great. “You sure that’s all you’re doing?”

“Oh, no, you’re right. I forgot to mention the person I dragged in here earlier to interrogate.”

How am I supposed to know what you’re doing if you don’t just tell me? Dean took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair, tugging at it out of frustration, you’re not this stupid, Sam. You know why I’m worried. He bit his lip and closed his eyes, I can’t believe I’m doing this, “…What’d he tell you?”

“Jesus Dean!”

He heard the toilet flush, at least he was telling the truth, before Sam reappeared, his hands shaking slightly.

“Ew, dude, there’s no way you washed your hands that fast,” the blonde threw one of the pillows at him, he won’t even leave you alone to go to the bathroom? Damn.

The younger sighed, letting the pillow fall to the floor before crossing his arms over his chest, avoiding his brothers’ gaze, “I’m not five, Dean.”

“You should still wash your hands, no matter how old you are, Sammy. C’mon, I thought I raised you better then that.”

Eye roll, well, that’s a step down from pissed, I guess, “Dean, look, I don’t need you to-”

“I got a hunt for you.” Bobby burst through the door, throwing a newspaper toward Sam.

Dean didn’t bother to hide the offended look from the eldest, “Anything non-leviathan related?”

“Are you ever that lucky?”

Sam’s eyes scanned the paper, stopping every second or third line to flick over to his left, hands twitching slightly, as if wanting to grab whatever he was looking at, before he returned to reading. He’s still here? Fuck… Dean gave Bobby a look, but the elder man either didn’t notice, or didn’t care anymore.

“So, Sam,” he noted the small jump at the sound of his voice, c’mon, Lucifer, at least give him five friggin’ minutes! “what’s it say?”

“What?”

“The hunt? Is it our kind of thing?” You can’t focus? No way are you leaving.

“Oh, right, uh, it just says a farmer couple went missing a couple of days ago, only thing anyone found was a swipe of black ooze on one of the windowsills. Claiming the couple just up and left for a vacation,” Sam threw the newspaper down on the table.

He walked back out of eyesight, now you’re just trying to piss me off, returning a moment later with a duffle slung over his shoulder, extending a hand to his brother to give him the keys. Dean’s eyebrows shot up and he shook his head. Sam huffed a breath and shifted his weight, giving his brother Bitch Face Number Four.

“No way Sam.” You really think I’m gonna let you go out on a hunt? After that?

“Dean, it’ll be quick, two, three days max.”

“No Sam, you’re not going alone, especially not on a Leviathan thing.”

“Hey,” Bobby cut in, “I can go with him, make sure he doesn’t get his head ripped off.”

“Oh c’mon Bobby, you can’t watch him,” Dean barely glanced at the older man.

“You wanna try that again, Son?”

“You’re reflexes ain’t what they used to be, half a second late, and Sam’ll be dead. Or worse.”

“Reflexes ain’t…?” Bobby huffed, eyebrows raising, “Is your cast cutting off the circulation to your brain or something, Boy?”

“Look, I,” he ran a hand through his hair in agitation, what is with everyone today? “that’s not what I meant.”

The eldest gave the blonde an expectant look.

Don’t make me say it, “Bobby, I just… If Sam’s going on a hunt, I’m going with him.”

“Since when don’t you trust me to watch the kid?”

“It’s not your job, alright?” You should already know this, why’re you making me spell it out for you?

“Uh, Dean?”

“Bobby, it’s not that I don’t trust you-”

“Dean-”

“I just – I’m going stir crazy here, not being able to leave, I need to burn off some of this energy, y’know?”

“Dean!”

“What?” He followed his eyes to the empty space where the youngest used to be standing, “Shit.”

He swung his cast leg off the couch and braced himself against the arm, getting ready to stand, “How the hell did he do that? You’re standing in front of the door.”

“There’s a back door at the end of the hall.”

I’m going to kill him, He hoisted himself up and gave a small laugh of triumph as he didn’t immediately fall back over, “Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“Fine, next time I’ll give you a floor plan to the place,” he tossed his jacket at him before coming around to help.

“I got it,” the blonde swatted his hand away and thought of his next move, using the arm of the couch for support.

“He couldn’t have gotten far, he doesn’t have the keys to the Impala,” Bobby grabbed the crutches from the opposite wall and handed them over.

“Unless he hotwired it.” I swear to God, if you opened her up…

“We would’ve heard it start,” he yanked the door open and scanned the driveway for the vehicle anyway.

They were both half-way out the door when a creak from behind them made them stop and turn around.

“Uh, guys?” Sam came out of the back, shrugging his jacket on and took in the concerned look on their faces, “What? Did you decide I’m on lock down again?”

Dean moved as fast as he could back to the middle of room to hit his brother, “Don’t do that!”

Sam eyed his brother confused as he threw his duffle down on the small dining table, “Do what?”

“We thought you left for the hunt.” Bobby closed the door and helped the blonde back to the couch.

He made his way to the fridge, pulling out a couple of waters, “And neither of you realized I would’ve had to walk past you?”

“We thought you went out the back.” Dean flopped down with a sigh.

“There is no back way out of here.”

Dean glared at Bobby who just put his hands up in mock surrender and shrugged.

“My mistake.”

“Jesus, Bobby!”

“So,” the brunette stuffed the water bottles into his duffle before zipping it closed again and throwing it up on his shoulder, “can I go now?”

“No. You’re not going.”

“Dean-”

“No Sam. Let Bobby go. You can stay here and wait on me,” he gave his brother a thousand watt smile. No way am I letting you out of this house. Especially if you’re seeing Lucifer while you’re goddamn peeing.

Sam rolled his eyes and looked to Bobby, who was refusing to meet his eyes. Bobby sighed and snatched the paper off the coffee table before making his way back over to the door.

“I’ll call when I get there; let you know what I find.”

With that, Bobby disappeared out the door, leaving the brother’s alone. Sam made his way toward the back, rolling his eyes as he saw Dean tense.

He sighed and held up his duffle, “I’m going to put my stuff back.”

Dean waved a hand dismissively, letting him go before scrubbing a hand down his face, and letting out a deep sigh, fuck.

“Hey,” as soon as his brother got back into eyesight he hit him with another pillow, “go to the store?”

Sam caught this one and put it down on the dining table, “You sure I can do that by myself Dean?”

“No, but you’re here to wait on me, and me wants pie.” If you can do this by yourself, then we’ll see about letting you hunt. Definitely nothing Leviathan related, we’re starting you small. Salt n’ burns only.

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head but walked toward the front door anyway.

“Hey, don’t forget these.” Dean threw him the keys. Bring him back in one piece for me, Baby.

“Yeah alright.”

“And some skin mags?”

“Anything else, your highness?” Sam turned back to him, bowing slightly.

Dean tapped his chin as if to think for a moment, “Pie! Definitely pie.”

“When do I ever not get you pie?”

The blonde opened his mouth to respond but closed it wordlessly, good point. He craned his neck to look at the kitchen behind him, “We might need some real food too.”

“Okay,” Sam had one hand on the doorknob, not even looking at him, eager, aren’t ya?

“And water, we’re down to the last case.”

“Fine.”

“And-”

Sam rolled his eyes, turning back to his brother, “Yes?”

“If you wreck the car,” he smirked at his brother, “I’ll kill you.”

“Yeah, alright. Can I go now?”

“Yeah you can go. I’m warning you now; if you’re not back in ten minutes I’m coming after you.”

“Dean, the store is fifteen minutes away at least, plus time to actually gather everything-”

“Oh, yeah, alright Mr. Cocky, you get half an hour then.”

Sam held up his hands in mock surrender before finally getting out the door, closing it behind him. Dean heard the Impala start up and rumble away, eyes on the clock, so he could time him.

He was serious, if Sam wasn’t back soon, he was going after him – he wasn’t just going to sit around while Lucifer had him doing who-knew-what to who-knew-who.

Dean leaned his head back against the couch, closing his eyes, don’t make me come after you.

 

 

“Dean!”

Dean jumped, startled, and looked around, trying to place himself. He relaxed slightly as he spotted Bobby over him, wait…

“Bobby?” He cleared his throat as he heard the grogginess of it.

“Where the hell’s your brother?”

“Supply run,” he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and stretched, “Did you forget something?”

“Forget something? Dean, I’ve been gone four days.”

“What?” He was definitely awake now.

Bobby flicked the light on, making Dean shield his eyes from the light, “I came back from the hunt to see the door unlocked, the Impala gone, you snoring on the couch and a lack of your mammoth of a brother.”

Fuck, he struggled to his feet, “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I got back yesterday, figured he was out on a supply run and waited to see if he’d come back. Gave the kid fifteen minutes from when I got in, when he didn’t show? I’ve been trying to wake you since.”

He is so dead. He started toward the door.

“Do you know where he went?”

“No, but I’ll start with the store and work my way up,” he reached into his pocket for the keys.

Fuck, I let him take the car! He banged a fist against the wall, “Can we take your truck?”

Bobby nodded, catching up to Dean, before running out the door. They climbed into his truck – needing to physically pull Dean half way into it first, which shaved off another couple minutes of catch-up time – before speeding off toward the store.

 

 

“C’mon Sam, I know you want to vent. Who better to listen than me?” Lucifer stretched his feet up onto the dash as they sped down the road, the youngest Winchester looking ready to explode, his grip on the steering wheel getting increasingly tighter.

“Leave me alone.” Sam pushed the palm of his left hand as hard as he could into the wheel.

Why can’t I just get some time to myself? Usually, Lucifer disappeared after a few minutes or he just hung around in the background, not really talking. But lately things had started to change – Sam would walk into a room to find him waiting there, actively trying to get him to respond, he seemed more in tune with the situation and would interject whenever there was a pause, and, perhaps the most annoying – the scar on his hand was pretty much useless.

“Don’t be mean, Sammy, I’m only trying to help.”

“I don’t want your help.”

“Oh c’mon,” Lucifer bumped his arm, “Tell me what’s bothering you about Big Bro.”

“It’s just-” he huffed, knuckles going white around the steering wheel, “He’s acting like I’m five. Like I can’t take care of myself. All the shit we’ve been through? And he just assumes I’m not able to handle this. I mean,” he pulled into the parking lot, “No offence but seeing you isn’t exactly the worst thing that’s happened to one of us, y’know?”

Lucifer nodded, “He has gotten more… controlling lately.”

“I know,” Sam got out of the car and made his way toward the entrance of the store, “I think it might be tied to losing Cas, but still…” he picked up a basket as they entered, pausing as Lucifer hopped into one of the carts, “… what’re you doing?”

“I’ve never rode in one before.”

Sam shook his head, replacing the basket, before making his way over to the cart, “You know they don’t go very fast, right? If you think riding in a car is slow – this’ll be ten times worse.”

Lucifer waved a dismissive hand at him before pointing to the doors, “Onward!”

Sam complied, making his way into the store pushing the cart, unable to ignore the thousand-watt smile the devil gave him.

“Don’t forget the pie, Sam.”

“I’m not gonna forget the pie,” he mentally cursed himself as a lady gave him a quizzical look as they passed, shit.

“What?” Lucifer turned to look at the lady, before turning back to the hunter, confused, “What’s wrong?”

Nothing, he turned down the produce aisle, throwing things into the cart occasionally.

“Ooohhh,” Lucifer nodded, “You don’t want to look crazy, got it.”

They turned down another aisle, Sam moving through it quickly, trying to find pie.

“Hold it!”

Sam stopped abruptly, glad the aisle was empty, “What the hell?”

Lucifer picked a box of Pop-Tarts up off the shelf, holding them out to show the hunter, “Can we get these?”

Sams’ brows furrowed in confusion, “Since when do angels need to eat? And since when do you like Pop-Tarts?”

Lucifer pet the box, “These are the best thing your kind has invented.”

“…Sure,” Sam held back his chuckle as the devil reached for another box, cradling both against his chest.

They continued shopping in silence for a while, before Sam doubled back on some of the aisles, scanning the signs above with frustration, “Where the hell is the pie?”

Lucifer pointed toward the back of the store, “Probably where it says Bakery?”

He stopped dumbfounded before shaking his head, of course, starting toward the back of the store.

He ducked as he heard a gunshot, before turning to the front of the store, eyes widening as he saw another him, “What the hell?”

“This is a robbery!” Clone-Sam yelled, firing two more shots into the ceiling, “Everybody down!” He made his way over to the cash, shooting some of the people in line, before throwing the cashier a bag, “Money, in!”

Sam was frozen to the spot, eyes fixed on the fake him, is it a shifter?

“H-hey!”

His head whipped around to the bakery counter, where a worker held their wall phone in his shaking hand, “D-don’t move!”

Shit, Sam quickly looked around, hoping for an exit.

“Psst,” Lucifer pointed to a door a few feet away.

Thank-you, he started toward it, doing his best to move as silently as he could, crouching down behind the cart. He stopped halfway, peeking over the cart at clone-him, who had moved on to another cashier.

“T-the police are on their way!”

Clone-Sams’ head whipped up at the yell, and, upon spotting the baker, his face twisted into an evil smile, “Good, tell them Sam Winchester says hi.” before shooting the man, eyes connecting with Sams’.

Shit, shit, shit, Sam continued toward the door, as he heard clone-him laugh. He turned just in time to see him jump up onto one of the counters, pointing his gun toward him, “Would’ya look at this? Seems we’ve got two of me!”

Fuck it, Sam stood, bolting for the door, bursting through it, as the alarm blared. He didn’t stop running until he reached the car, wrenching the door open before speeding away, “Fuck!”

 

 

“The Impalas’ not here,” Dean surveyed the parking lot from the truck, knuckles white around his cell, “Bobby, I don’t think he’s-” He cut himself off as he saw the older man come out of the front entrance to the grocery store, Sam in handcuffs.

Deans’ brows furrowed as he watched them get closer, his brother was smirking as they walked, like he wanted to get caught… Dean felt a boulder settle into his stomach as they reached the car and he winked, that’s definitely not Sammy.

 

 

“Yes!” Lucifer ran a hand through his hair, practically bouncing in the front seat, “Did you see that? Man, he was on fire!” His face was split into a giant grin and he turned to face the hunter, “There’s no way we can head back to the cabin now.”

Sam pulled the car off the road into an alley, eyeing the devil, “What’re you talking about?”

“Sam, everyone in that parking lot saw you get into this car. I bet there’s a BOLO out for it right now.”

“But… they would’ve caught me, I mean him… right?”

“You think whatever that was is gonna wait around for the police to show up and catch him? Or, isn’t it more likely he bolted not long after you did, and has a replica of the car?”

“Shit,” he rested his head against the steering wheel with a groan, “What am I supposed to do now?”

“C’mon Sam, what could be more fun then being on the lamb with the devil?” He clapped the giant on the shoulder before opening the door, “Come on, we gotta ditch this thing for a less conspicuous ride.”




 

“Where is he?”

Sam looked up, brows creasing slightly, “Sorry, what?”

“I said,” Dean took a few steps closer to his ‘brother’, hand tightening around his gun, “Where’s my brother?”

The giants’ expression softened and he smiled, gesturing to himself, “I’m right here, silly.”

“Uh-huh,” Dean dug his flask of holy water out of his jacket, eyeing the thing, “Then prove it.”

“Pfft, Dean,” Bitch Face Number Five – even that looked off.

He’d admit, the thing was pretty good at pretending to be his brother, but every so often, he would say, or react to something in a way that Sam just… wouldn’t. He couldn’t quite explain it, but he had a bad feeling that the thing in front of him wasn’t his brother.

The brunette sighed before grabbing for the flask, taking a big gulp of the holy water, pulling a face as he swallowed, “Ugh, dude, how old was that?”

The blonde replaced the flask before reaching for his knife, just as Bobby came back into the room.

The eldest looked to Dean, hand on his knife, “What kinda party am I missing in here?”

“Nothing,” Dean dropped his knife back into his pocket, “Hey Sam, why don’t you go fire up the grill for those steaks?”

“Sure thing!”

He waited until that thing was out of the kitchen before turning to the older man, “That’s not Sam.”

“C’mon, Boy,” Bobby dropped his voice and went to sit at the table, “What makes you so sure?”

“I don’t know,” he crossed his arms over his chest, “I just… it doesn’t feel like it’s him. He’s been acting weird ever since we picked him up at the grocery store.”

“Did you forget he’s got the devil riding shotgun? That’s gotta be doing a number on him.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Dean scrubbed a hand down his face with a sigh, “He’s just… different.”

“It’s bound to change him, Dean. But we’ll get him put together, and things’ll go back to normal. Now,” Bobby nodded toward the window, “why don’t you go help the kid with the barbeque before he lights himself on fire?”

Dean followed the mans’ gaze out the window and saw Sam standing in front of the barbeque, sniffing the lighter fluid. The blonde sighed but nodded, before heading outside.

 

 

“They gone?”

Lucifer peeked back out the motel curtain before nodding, “Yeah, they’re gone.”

“Jesus,” Sam ran both his hands through his hair, “That was close.”

“Too close,” Lucifer made his way back to the bed and jumped on it, “I told you we should’ve kept moving.”

“And I told you that I needed to sleep.”

“Aw, come on,” he waved a dismissive hand at the hunter, “You could’ve slept in the car.”

“You mean the fire red convertible you stole? Oh yeah, that would’ve been a way better hiding spot.”

“Y’know…” Lucifer sat up, voice careful, “I could always just keep you awake.”

“It’s been four days, excuse me for needing some shut eye.”

Lucifer shrugged, “Just saying. We coulda kept driving.”

Sam stifled a yawn, raising his eyebrows at the devil, “Wait…what do you mean you could ‘keep me awake’?”

“Well…” Lucifer averted his gaze to the floor, “You wouldn’t exactly like it, but it could be done.”

“What is it?”

“You know.”

“No, Lucifer I-” he cut himself off before shaking his head, “Demon blood? You’re not serious?”

Lucifer was standing next to him in an instant, “Don’t you remember how much sharper you were when you were on it, Sam? You were stronger, had faster reflexes, barely slept – you were a machine. You had to be – you were set to be my vessel, after all. Only a person of the utmost strength can contain me.”

Sam shook his head and got up, “No. No way. Dean would ha-” his eyes widened in realization, “Shit, Dean! He’s gotta be going nuts!”

“Wha-?” Lucifer starred as the hunter moved to the bed, grabbing his duffle, “Where are you going?”

Sam threw his clothes into the duffle before zipping it, making his way over to the door, grabbing his jacket, “Home.”

 

 

“I knew it!” Dean punched the thing in the face again, heaving.

The thing just laughed, spitting black goo onto the floor, “What do you want? A medal?”

The blonde pulled out Ruby’s knife, plunging it into it’s heart, “Fuck you!”

“Dean!” Bobby dragged the hunter away from the thing tied to the chair, “That won’t do anything.”

“I don’t care!”

“Hey! We need him to tell us where your brother is,” Bobby gave the younger a pointed look, “Think you can play nice until we get that information?”

Deans’ lip curled in anger but he nodded, taking a breath.

The Leviathan chuckled as it watched them, “Better listen to Daddy, Junior.”

“You son-of-a-bitch!” Dean surged forward, nearly falling over his broken leg. He hobbled closer to the creature, bringing his head down so they were more-or-less eyelevel, “I’m gonna have fun figuring out a way to kill you.”

 

 

“Sam! Look out!”

Sams’ eyes shot open and he swerved the car back into the right lane, heart hammering in his chest, as the horn of the oncoming car faded, “Fuck!” He pulled the car over to the side of the road and rubbed his hands over his face, “I-I can’t drive, I’m too tired. Ugh!” He rested his head on the steering wheel, what am I gonna do?

“There’s still that other-”

“Jesus, Lucifer!” He shot the devil a look before reaching for the coffee cup, tipping it up as far as he could, trying to get every last drop of caffeine he could.

“That’s a phrase I don’t think I’ve heard,” The devil smiled before snatching the cup from the hunter, “Sam, come on. We both know what you need, and it isn’t more caffeine.”

“No, I’m not gonna-”

“I’m not saying you’ve gotta go full black eyes again. Just drink enough to keep you awake enough to drive you back to the cabin without killing yourself, and then that’s it.”

Sam debated for a moment, brain foggy from lack of sleep.

“C’mon Sam, you have enough self control to handle just one cup, don’t you?”

“I…” he sighed before nodding, “Fine.”

 

 

“C’mon, Dean,” the creature sneered at him, black dripping out of his mouth, “We both know you can’t hurt me when I look like this.”

“Oh no?” Dean twisted the knife sticking out of its’ chest, face falling slightly as it didn’t cry out in pain.

“Oh, I’m sorry, were you waiting for this?” The Leviathan let out a cry of pain, before pointedly looking to the eldest, “Don’t tell me you taught him how to torture.”

Bobby glared, “Don’t worry. We got enough books to keep you busy for the next thousand or so years.”

“Ooohhh,” Leviathan-Sam smiled before turning back to Dean, “Let’s get started, then, shall we?”

 

 

“This doesn’t look good.”

Sam pulled up to the cabin slowly, noting the uncooked steaks on the barbeque and the open front door, “No, no it’s not.”

He got out of the car, gun at the ready as he approached the house, listening for any signs of movement. He made his way into the living room, eyes scanning the surrounding area for any sign of his brother or father figure. Feeling a sense of dread, he continued deeper into the cabin, feeling of dread growing as each bedroom he checked came up empty.

A whistle from Lucifer got him back into the hall, following the devils’ gaze to the floor, and the upturned carpet that revealed a trap door. This place has a basement? He opened the trap door and immediately heard his brother grunting, and it’s soundproof? He started down the steps as swiftly as he could without making too much noise. As he came down the stairs he saw his brother, getting choked out by what looked to be him.

Wait… what? He reached the bottom, and noted Bobby was laying on the floor, gash on his head preluding to why. He spotted the machete a few feet away and picked it up, before creeping up behind the creature, noting the black that was soaking the shirt it wore. Ah, his eyes met his brothers’, face melting into a relieved smile.

“Why’re you smiling?”

Momentarily stunned hearing his voice come out of the thing in front of him, he swung at its’ head with all the strength he had, the sound of flesh cutting filled the air before the head landed on the floor with a thud.

His brother dropped to the ground, cast making a dull crack as it hit the ground. Dean coughed a bit before propping himself up on his elbows, looking down at his freshly-freed leg, “Well… that’s one way to get a cast off.”

“Was that what I think it was?” Sam offered his brother a hand.

“Yep. Leviathan you,” Dean stumbled a bit before finding his footing and looking triumphant, “We picked it up at the supermarket.”

“And here I thought you could only get food there.”

The brothers’ turned to see Bobby sitting up, holding a rag to the gash on his head, “Whenever you princesses are done over there, I’ll just wait here… possibly bleeding out.”

Dean rolled his eyes before making his way over to the older man, “Yeah, yeah, don’t get your panties in a bunch. You’re the one who picked him up, remember?”

Bobby shook his head, “You’re not gonna let me live that one down, are ya?”

“Nope.” The blonde swung Bobbys’ one arm across his shoulders before helping him up, moving toward the stairs, “How could you of thought that thing was Sam?”

“Well excuse me. It looked like your brother, talked like your brother, and recognized me, I’ll be sure to test him in front of the cops next time.”

Sam stood over the Leviathans’ body, eyes fixated on the eyes, it looks so real…

“Of course it does,” Lucifer perched himself in the torture chair, following his gaze, “They’re one of the oldest creatures in creation. Dad didn’t feel the need to skimp on their powers.”

Sam kicked the head a bit further away from the body, shifting his body weight from one foot to the other, one hand closing around the flask in his pocket, keeping his voice low, “Do you think he noticed?”

“Your brother?” Lucifer laughed and shook his head, “Not likely. Dean’s not exactly the sharpest crayon in the box. It’ll probably take him a while to notice. Just don’t go disappearing for long stretches of time and leaving a trail of bodies behind like last time and you’ll be fine.”

“Sam?”

The youngests’ head whipped up at the call and he started toward the stairs, “Yeah?”

“Where’s my pie?”


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Stay That Way

This is this years’ Christmas/holiday fic.

On Dec. 14th I will be uploading a New Years fic, and then the last post of the year on the following Monday. (Dec. 17th) I will then take a two week vacation from posting, and will return in January! (I’ll explain more in the post on Dec. 17th)


Wee!Chesters

Words: 2,111


“… What are you doing?”

“Uhm…” Sammy’s eyes went to the ground, cheeks flaring, “nothing.”

“Nothing?” Bobbys’ eyebrows went up, “That’s an awfully loud nothing,” his eyes drifted to the lump under the covers on the bed, “a pretty big lump, too.”

The kid swallowed thickly, eyes darting to the lump before back to the father-figure standing in the doorway, “W-what lump?”

Bobby chuckled, holding up his hands, “Okay, okay. Well you just let me know if you need any help with that nothing.”

“… Okay.”

Bobby re-closed the bedroom door, shaking his head as he made his way down the stairs, what is that boy up to? He went out to the backyard, picking up the paint spray gun and mask, just down burn down the house.

 

 

Bobby awoke startled, hearing a loud crash from the kitchen, what in the hell…? He was out of his chair in an instant, stalking his way over to the kitchen doors, hand on his gun, mentally running through the salt-line check he’d done before falling asleep.

He opened the door and sighed in relief as he saw the five-year old jump up from the floor.

“Jesus, Boy, you almost gave me a heart attack,” he leaned himself against the door, eyes roaming over the flour-covered counter, “Whatcha doing, Sammy?”

The brunette swallowed thickly and ‘hid’ a cookie sheet behind his back, eyes threatening to spill over with tears, “… Nothing,” at the mans’ eyebrow raise he sighed in defeat, bottom lip poking out, “I-I’ll clean it up…”

“Clean up?” Bobby craned his neck a bit so he could see over the counter and noted the un-cooked cookies that littered the floor, “Now why would you do that?”

Sammy blinked in surprise as Bobby got an apron out of the closet, “… What?”

Bobby’s heart broke, John what the hell have you done to this boy? He took the cookie sheet from the child and placed it on the counter, before winking, grabbing the mixing bowl, “We can’t let you destroy the kitchen for nothing.”

 

 

“Wow,” Sammy was practically laying on the counter, watching the cookies cool on a wire rack.

Bobby chuckled as he washed the last of the dishes, “You’d think you’d never seen a cookie before.”

“I’ve seen cookies,” he rolled his eyes, “I just can’t believe I made these!”

“Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?”

“I know you helped but still…” he reached out to touch one, recoiling as it burnt his finger, “These look like real cookies. Like the ones you get at a store!” He turned to the older man, “I can’t believe we turned eggs and milk and all that stuff into these! It’s like magic!”

Bobby did his best to hold in his laughter, “Yeah, cooking is pretty cool.”

“Definitely,” he tilted his head a bit to the side, “… can making cookies be a job?”

“Yep,” Bobby leaned against the counter, taking a swig from his beer, “They’re called bakers.”

“Really?” his eyes went wide and he gave a thousand-watt smile, “That’s so cool! Do you think…” he bit his lip and averted his eyes, smile fading, “Do you think I could do that?”

“’Course.”

“But won’t Dad-”

“It doesn’t matter what John says,” he narrowly stopped himself from hitting the counter, “I mean,” he took a deep breath, “you should do whatever you want to do. Don’t worry if John doesn’t understand. Do what makes you happy.”

Sammy nodded before turning back to the cookies, “I want to make these every day!”

Bobby smiled, going over to ruffle his hair, “Then you do that.”

Just then, the boys heard a rumble from outside, the Impala.

Sammys’ face lit up again and he practically jumped off the counter, running to the front door, “They’re back!”

The brunette sped to the front hall before – much to Bobbys’ surprise – bee lining for the stairs, bedroom door slamming shut. Bobby looked after him for a moment before shaking his head as the front door opened, John bursting in, Dean in his arms.

That can’t be good, Bobby went to the kitchen, fetching the first aid kit, coming back as John placed Dean down on the couch. His face was set in a scowl, and he was covered head to toe in a mix of dirt and blood. Dean had a deep gash across his head that was oozing blood, glad Sammy decided to go upstairs.

“What happened?”

John shook his head, “He didn’t want to list-”

“John,” Bobby shot him a look as he pushed him away, kneeling down and beginning to clean the boys’ wound.

John let out a breath, running a hand through his hair as he began pacing, eyes on the ground, “I told him not to go after it.”

“That’s great,” Bobby pushed the gauze harder against the wound, not liking that Dean didn’t even flinch, “What else?”

“What does it look like?” Johns’ hands balled into fists at his side, “The thing flung him halfway across the room, he only stopped cause he hit a wall. Head collided with the corner of a table on the way down.”

Bobby closed his eyes and grit his teeth, “He needs to go to the hospital.”

“No.”

“John-”

“I said no!”

“Do you want him to die?” Bobby stood, turning angry eyes on the other man, “Cause that’s what’s gonna happen if he stays here.”

John blinked in mild surprise, “You can’t stitch it?”

“He’s unconscious.”

John took a step toward him, getting close enough Bobby could smell the whisky on his breath, “Can. You. Stitch. It?”

Bobby used all the strength he had to not punch him in the face, “No.”

“Fuck,” John blew out a breath, eyeing his son, taking a small step back, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Go to the hospital.”

“We can’t.”

“Why?”

“I’m still wanted for that skin-walker job, remember?”

Bobby grit his teeth, closing his eyes for a moment to think, “Fine. I’ll take him, you stay here with Sammy.”

John paled a bit at the mention of his other son but nodded. He watched as Bobby picked Dean up off the couch, helping to load him into the truck. Bobby hopped in before giving John a death glare, “Do not tell him about this.”




 

“Seriously, Bobby, I’m fine,” Dean swatted at his arm as he was easing himself out of the truck.

“Oh yeah, you pass out from blood loss and get a concussion every day,” the older man gave him a pointed look and kept his arms out for support.

“Pfft, you know what hunting’s like,” Dean successfully stood on the ground, and blinked, swaying slightly on the spot, “It’s always dangerous.”

“You’re not your father, Dean,” Bobby shut the truck door and trailed behind the blonde as they made their way to the front door, “also, you’re nine.”

“Exactly,” He climbed the steps, leaning heavily against the banister, “Time for me to grow up.”

Bobby rolled his eyes and unlocked the door, holding it open for the blonde, not surprised to see John was no longer in the living room, big surprise.

“Dean!”

A mess of brown hair launched itself at the blonde, nearly knocking him over. He caught Sammy easily, plastering a smile on his face, but Bobby didn’t miss the flash of dizziness.

“Wha-? Who’s this?” he brushed some of the hair from his brothers’ eyes, “Oh, Sammy! There you are!”

The youngest giggled and Bobby was amazed at how quickly the elder could switch into Big Brother Mode. He began walking them over to the couch, “So, Sammy, what have you been up to?”

The youngest looked like he was going to explode, “I made you something!” his expression fell as he noticed the bandage on the blondes’ head, “What happened?”

“Eh,” Dean waved a dismissive hand, “I’m fine. What did you make me? Is it…” he looked around the room, pretending to think, “A Tickle Monster?” he then threw the five-year-old onto the couch before all but tackling him, tickling his stomach.

The youngest let out a loud squeal, doing his best to wiggle away. John came out of the kitchen at the yell, and Bobby was mildly surprised to see he had showered. He hung back as he saw what was happening. The eldest Winchester leaned against the doorway next to Bobby, small smile on his face.

Sammy began gasping for breath after a few minutes, face going red.

“Dean.”

At the sound of his fathers’ voice, Dean immediately stopped, smile fading and he practically jumped up from the couch, puffing his chest out. A soldier ready for duty. Sammys’ gasps had also died down, eyes going straight to the floor, as if he were ashamed.

“Sammy,” Bobby nodded toward the kitchen, “why don’t you go get what you made Dean?”

He nodded, smile reappearing before zooming back up the stairs.

Dean turned confused eyes to the other men, “What is it?”

Bobby shrugged, “Last time I saw it, it was a giant lump under the covers.”

A small smile graced Deans’ face, and his cheeks flushed.

They saw the youngest stop at the top of the stairs, whatever it was carefully hidden behind his back, “Close your eyes!”

Dean rolled his eyes before closing them, “Okay! They’re closed!”

“I don’t believe you!”

Dean huffed, before opening them, giving Bobby and his father a look, “Little help?”

Bobby smirked, giving him a pointed look, “Well?” the blonde re-closed his eyes, “They’re closed, Sammy!”

The men watched as the youngest did his best to walk down the stairs without holding onto the hand rail. Whatever he made was big enough it needed his two hands to carry. He got to the bottom and carefully walked himself over, bringing the gift – that was carefully wrapped in red and white Christmas paper – out from behind his back.

“Hold out your hands,” upon doing so he placed the present in them, and chuckled as Deans’ arms fell a few inches, pretending it was heavy, “Okay, open.”

The blonde opened his eyes and let out a whistle, “You wrapped this?”

“Mhm,” Sammy was beaming, bouncing slightly where he stood, “Open it! Open it! Open it!”

“Okay, okay, geez,” Dean made his way back over to the couch, placing the present down on the coffee table.

He began unwrapping it slowly, brows knit together wondering what could be so heavy, before revealing a cardboard box.

He turned to his brother, “Wow, Sammy, it’s uhm…”

The youngest rolled his eyes, giving his brother a slight push, “It’s in the box, Dean.”

“Oh, right. I knew that.”

The blonde took his switch blade off his belt to open the box, prying the top open and peering inside, before letting out a small gasp. He reached into the box carefully, pulling out what looked to be a Lego version of their fathers’ Impala.

He turned his eyes to his brother, “What…? How did you…?”

“I built it!” Sammy was bouncing up and down, “I took all the black Legos I had from my other sets and built it,” he flung his arms around his brother, “Now you have one, too!”

“I can’t believe this…” Deans’ eyes drifted back down to the present he was holding, face stunned, “This is… amazing, thank-you.”

“Is that what you were doing up in your room all week?”

The youngest gave Bobby a nod before turning back to his brother, “You like it?”

“I love it,” Dean held the car up to his face, inspecting it, “You even got the license plate right!”

“Good job, Sammy,” Bobby went to sit on the arm of the couch, “Now that kitchen mess makes more sense.”

“Oh!” Sammy smacked his head, before running into the kitchen, “I forgot the best part!”

Dean starred after him, “There’s more?”

Bobby winked, “I helped with this part.”

The youngest returned a moment later with the cookies he and Bobby had made, placing the plate down on the table next to the car.

Dean looked over the cookies and chuckled, “Are these supposed to be us?”

Sammy nodded his head excitedly before removing one of the door Legos from the side of the car, placing one of the cookies into the driver side, “Look! They fit inside, too!”

“Wow, Sammy, that’s so cool!” Dean wrapped his brother up in a bear hug, “You’re one smart kid, y’know that?”

“I know!”

“This is great, Sammy,” he turned his eyes to the plate of cookies, eyes widening slightly, “I just have one question.”

“What?”

His stomach grumbled then, as if on cue, “Does that mean I can’t eat the cookies?”


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